


Day Twenty Six

by walkerofthestars



Series: Whumptober 2020 [26]
Category: Young Justice (Cartoon)
Genre: AND HE'S LEADING HEROES AGAINST AN INVASION WHAT THE FU-, Alfred being the voice of reason, Angst, Barbara Gordon is Batgirl, Conner Kent is Superboy, Dick Grayson is Batman, Dick Grayson is Nightwing, F/M, HE CAN BARELY VOTE, HE CAN'T EVEN LEAGALLY DRINK, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Tim Drake as Robin, Underage Drinking, Whumptober 2020, because Alfred sees no other way to make Dick sleep, if you thought the head trauma was bad, migraine concussion blindness, mild head trauma, season two, sometimes it hits me like a brick, that Dick is 18/19 during season two
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-20
Updated: 2020-12-20
Packaged: 2021-03-11 04:40:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,503
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28189338
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/walkerofthestars/pseuds/walkerofthestars
Summary: Whumptober 2020If you though the head trauma was bad...Migraine, concussion, blindnessDick had not stopped moving for the past six months. It was go, go, go. he got moments of sleep, brief periods. He was running on fumes, and things hadn’t even got as bad as they could.
Relationships: Dick Grayson/Barbara Gordon
Series: Whumptober 2020 [26]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2055567
Comments: 12
Kudos: 65





	Day Twenty Six

**Author's Note:**

> you have no idea how much fun this was to write :D

Dick had not stopped moving for the past six months. It was go, go, go. he got moments of sleep, brief periods. He was running on fumes, and things hadn’t even got as bad as they could.

And now the league was leaving. Not all of them, but the heavy hitters. And they couldn’t let the public know. They had to keep appearances up. M’Gann would fly around as her uncle, Superboy at a distance in the superman suit, Wondergirl and a few others keeping up her sightings.

It wasn’t until Dick was standing in the Batcave, speaking with Alfred as Batman packed some things, that he realised Batman would have to still be seen in Gotham.

“everything ready, sir?” Alfred asked.

Bruce nodded, “all going to plan, we should be back by May.”

Alfred nodded then said something about Tim being up in the manor as he left. Dick was staring at the cases on the mezzanine, several empty, a few with uniforms inside. There was a case hidden in the back of the cave, three people knew about it. Alfred, Dick and Lucius Fox. There was a Batman suit in there. it would not fit Bruce. It was a back-up. Dick never wanted to need it.

He was about to need it.

Bruce was wearing the suit, the cowl down.

“I believe the team will be seeing us off at the beach.”

Dick nodded.

Bruce followed his line of sight to the cases. Dick’s old Robin suit was there. so was Jason’s.

Dick felt a pang at the thought of Jason. He hadn’t been there for him, not like he should have. He beat himself up over that every day. The only reason he was as friendly with Bruce as he was these days was because he refused to make the same mistake with Tim. So far things were okay, he just had to hold himself back from arguing with Bruce.

“You’ll be able to handle the team on your own?” Bruce checked.

“I already do,” Dick said, voice stony. Batman had stopped having any direct connection with the team years ago.

Bruce looked like he wanted to say ‘you know what I meant’ or something to that description. He didn’t.

“you’ll need to keep up appearances.”

“I know.”

“Batman can’t disappear from Gotham for months.”

“I know,” Dick said, through near gritted teeth.

Bruce averted his gaze for a moment.

“you know about the suit?” Dick asked. Because surely he did.

“I know it would be a logical fallback to have, and I assumed you have something,” Bruce said, “I don’t know where it is-“

Dick pointed out the direction, “two lefts a right, three locks.”

“I’d thought you’d have it in Bludhaven,” Bruce said.

Dick took a deep breath.

“just while you’re gone,” he said, looked Bruce in the eye, “when you’re back the suit goes back, and I hope I never have to touch it again.”

Bruce nodded.

They left to the mountain for the see-off.

Barbara dropped her bag at the door to the manor. The night sky was dark, clouds blocking any possibility of moonlight or starlight. She stopped by the kitchen to steal one of Alfred’s famous cookies.

“Heading on a patrol, Miss Gordon?” Alfred asked, bringing a tray of dishes to the kitchen sink.

She nodded, wiping away some crumbs, “I don’t know how we’ll make it look like Batman’s around, but Tim and I will think of something.”

Alfred gave her a strange look, “I was under the impression master Dick had already organised something.”

Barbara frowned, extremely confused, “what do you mean?”

Alfred’s look of realisation and understanding was a rather common one, “Why don’t you ask him? he’s in the cave at the moment.”

Barbara walked to the study, moving the hands on the clock by muscle memory. She hadn’t had a chance to talk to Dick about what they’d do about Bruce’s absence. Dick hadn’t had a break of more than fifteen minutes since the leaguers had gone and Barbara was about two ticks away from calling an intervention and cuffing him to his bed to make him sleep.

It would not be the first time she cuffed him to a bed. Although usually it was for a different reason.

She exited the elevator into the cave and walked out onto the main section, the computer a bright glowing façade of screens, the cave around them, silent and echoing every sound.

She stared at Dick, leaning against one of the tables near the screens. He was fastening a gauntlet to his arm, the tell-tale spike at the forearms something strange. Her eyes scanned over the suit. Exactly the same as Bruce’s but smaller. The cape seemed thinner, probably made of something different to better suit his fighting style. The boots also looked trimmed down and less clunky.

Her eyes lifted up, the cowl was still down. He looked almost the exact same as Bruce, from a distance the height difference wasn’t too extreme and the body build could be passed off as a trick of the light.

“what,” she began, not sure if she should be mad or confused or sad or surprised, “the fuck.”

Dick shot her a small smirk, finishing securing his gauntlet, “what’s wrong?”

“are you shitting me?” she asked, one eyebrow raised, “that’s a joke right? When did you get this?”

“two years ago Lucius started working on it,” he said, “it’s a back-up. Didn’t think I’d ever need it.”

“and you didn’t think to bring this up?” Barbara propped one hand on her hip.

Dick shrugged, standing from the table, “sorry, been busy.”

She sighed, “okay,” she rubbed at her face with her free hand, “this is weird.”

Dick snorted, laughing slightly.

“stop that,” Barbara pouted, “Batman isn’t supposed to laugh, that’s so _weird._ ”

Dick stopped but refused to stop smiling, “that’ll definitely be something interesting to deal with. I’m usually rather expressive as Nightwing.”

“no shit,” Barbara snorted, “I’ll go get dressed.”

When she came back Dick was sitting at the computer, flicking through cases and catching up. He’d likely done the bulk of the research already, now he was just brushing up.

“is Tim coming along?” she asked, sitting on the table, right next to the keyboard.

“I don’t see why not,” Dick shrugged, “what, is he grounded or something?”

“no,” Barbara said, “but, hey, might be worth going out together, just the two of us for a patrol. Like the good old days.”

“yeah, without Bruce lurking down the street on the comms,” Dick snickered. He pulled the cowl over and Barbara almost choked, he dropped his voice to mimic Bruce, “ _there is no hugging, only justice.”_

Barbara snorted, giggling slightly, “I’m never going to see you _or_ Bruce the same way after this.”

Dick made a face, “what’s that supposed to mean?”

She thought on it, “I’d prefer not to tell my dad I’m dating Batman.”

Dick held up a finger, “temporary. You’re dating temporary Batman. don’t get used to this.”

“okay,” she snickered, “no getting used to it, so no kisses till you’re just Nightwing again.”

Dick pretended to be insulted by that, “what? _Hey_.”

Barbara snickered and leaned forward, almost slipping off the table but it was worth it because she was always good at getting close to Dick exactly when it would make him flustered.

“I could _try_ getting used to it,” she grinned.

and they kissed. Which was fine till Tim walked in.

“hey, Babs, what’re we – OH MY GOD!”

They broke apart, Barbara losing balance and falling off the table, Dick shooting back so fast the chair rolled backwards.

“dude he’s old enough to- wait, Dick? What?” Tim stood stock still, staring in utter confusion at Barbara and Dick, who were choking on their shock, trying to right themselves and fight off the laughter while also glancing awkwardly between themselves.

“uh…” Barbara cleared her throat, “ready for patrol?”

“so as far as the news is concerned, Superman was flying through the streets in broad daylight yesterday,” Conner sighed, collapsing on the couch, taking a sip of water, paracetamol dissolved in it, “I hate that suit so much.”

“Hey, could be worse,” Mal shrugged, joining him on the couch, “could be the flash suit. That thing is _skin tight_.”

Conner snorted, “well, even still, I could use a rest,” he rubbed at his neck, “I don’t think I’ve done anything not hero related for the past few months.”

“yeah, we should organise something,” Mal said, flicking through his calendar on his phone, Conner had no idea how he’d got it out so quick, “boy’s night?”

Conner raised an eyebrow, “as in?”

“as in, head to a bar, have a few drinks, complain about a few things, maybe throw some darts, go home shit faced,” Mal said.

Conner frowned, looking at his glass of water, thinking of how much he’d prefer it were something alcoholic, “who’re you gonna invite?”

“well, I guess options are limited,” mal said, “the team is mainly underage.”

“could ask the old gang to come along, from school,” Conner suggested, “haven’t seen them in a while.” He sipped his drink.

“yeah,” mal smiled, “yeah, I like that idea. Maybe Nightwing can come along.”

Conner choked on his drink.

“you right, dude?” mal chuckled, “what’s so funny?”

Conner cleared his throat, putting the glass down on the coffee table, he hit his chest a bit as he coughed, then finally managed to explain, “Nightwing’s underage.”

Mal blinked, smiled, “no he’s not.”

“he is.”

“there is no _way_ Nightwing is younger than, like, twenty-three,” Mal laughed.

Conner shook his head, “no, no I’m serious,” he shrugged.

“wait, so how old is he? We can swing twenty, okay,” Mal said, “I know some places that’ll look the other way at twenty, nineteen’s a stretch, but I can manage it if he’s _about to be twenty_.”

Conner laughed, taking another sip of his drink to wash down his now-sore throat, “he’s eighteen.”

Mal gaped. “no he’s fucking not.”

“he is.”

“no. way.”

“he is.”

“you’re telling me,” Mal shifted so he was looking straight at Conner, “that _Nightwing_ , is-“

“yep.”

Mal blinked, “the guy who’s running this team is-“

“yep.”

“the guy who’s filling in Batman’s place?”

“yep- wait what?” Conner took a double take, “what?”

Mal frowned, “well, there have been Batman sightings. The cape and cowl and all, not just fly-bys, the cops have seen him and everything,” Mal shrugged, “I’m assuming that’s Nightwing.”

“I… didn’t know about that,” Conner said.

“yeah, whatever, look,” Mal made a face and seemed to think on it, “I strangely don’t feel bad about drinking with him, I can find a place, if not he seems like the type to have fake IDs.”

Conner snorted, “yeah, you have no idea.”

It was at that moment the zeta tubes lit up and announced Nightwing’s arrival.

But it was Batman who walked out of the tubes.

Mal blinked, staring. Conner stood up, “uh, hey-“

“two minutes,” not-Batman-actually-Nightwing said, walking straight past Conner and towards the residential rooms, likely to get out of the suit and into something more comfortable.

Conner turned back to Mal, who was gaping.

“what?”

“he looks _just like him_ ,” Mal said, “like, _exactly_.”

Conner made a face, “no he doesn’t.”

Mal shrugged, “whatever, you’ve known him longer than me.”

“yeah,” Conner sat down again. He wasn’t entirely focusing on Mal, more so his thoughts on what Mal had said. He had known Nightwing long enough to be one of the few on the team to know his identity, which meant he knew about _some_ of the drama between Dick and Bruce.

Which meant he knew that Dick would not be enjoying himself walking around in that suit and being compared to Bruce.

“so,” mal said, drawing him out of his thoughts, “am I calling the old gang, or what?”

“hm?” Conner focused back in, “what?”

“boy’s night out?”

“I don’t know,” Conner said, “there’s a lot of stuff going on.”

“all the more reason to take a break while we can.”

Conner sighed, but thought on it.

Dick would probably want a distraction.

“yeah,” Conner said, “yeah, why not.”

Mal whipped out his phone once more, “all right, let the phone calls begin.”

Conner didn’t do a lot of the calls, but he did find a place to have the night. Eventually Dick walked out, not in the Nightwing suit but a jacket, jeans and a T-shirt, sunglasses on his face. Before he could leave the room to continue on to wherever he was going, Mal strode over and hooked an arm around his neck.

“come on, dude, we’re hitting the town.”

“what?” Nightwing frowned, extricating himself from Mal’s grip and standing straight.

“Mal’s called some people, we’re going out,” Conner joined the two, “don’t worry, we’ll introduce you.”

Nightwing smiled awkwardly, “yeah, sorry, gonna have to raincheck, I’ve got some work to do.”

“come on, dude, take a break,” Mal snorted, “scared I can drink you under the table?”

“not doubting it in the slightest,” Nightwing said, and if Conner were anyone else he wouldn’t notice his slight wince at Mal’s loud voice and his sheepish rub at the back of his head. he narrowed his eyes, immediately zeroing in for any other tells.

“come on, I feel like I barely know you,” Mal said, “how can we be on a team together if we don’t know each other?”

“look, a great point Mal, but-“

“exactly,” Mal said, “so let’s hit the town. Conner found a place you can drink, unless you want to be a law abiding citizen or whatever.”

Nightwing gave Conner a look, clearly putting two and two together to realise Conner had ratted out his age, “really?”

“look, I barely believe it,” Mal said, then gasped, “wait, oh my god, have you graduated?”

Nightwing sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, sunglasses going askew, “I graduated at fifteen.”

“oh my god, of course you fucking did, why am I not surprised?”

“look, point is,” Conner slung an arm around Dick’s shoulders, “we’re going out on the city.”

Nightwing sighed but seemed to give in to the fact that Mal and Conner had made a decision and he had no chance of getting out of it.

Dick’s head was hurting.

He’d woken up with a headache and he’d spent the whole day dealing with it. his feet hurt from the boots in the Batman suit. Lucius had altered them to suit his fighting style but even still they were too stiff for his pointed-toe, flippy style- even when he was holding back for the purposes of looking like the real Caped Crusader. On top of that was the _fucking cape_. It was so fucking heavy and always in the way. And the gloves weren’t as tight as he would like them so they didn’t offer as much support to his wrists.

In short: everything fucking hurt.

But he had to keep up appearances. And also… he wanted to spend some time with Conner outside the mountain. It had been a while.

Also, maybe he wanted to push through the guilt of keeping secrets from his entire team. Maybe this would help, maybe it wouldn’t.

He decided to throw caution to the wind for one night and take the sunglasses off. Conner knew who he was and he doubted Mal would place him. the lighting wasn’t great and Dick had fallen out of common news once he’d become estranged from Bruce and moved out of the manor. The issue was they were going to be meeting up with people who weren’t on the team. Civilians. They couldn’t go around calling him _Nightwing._

Which they conveniently forgot till they arrived at the place and Conner was introducing Dick to his school friends.

“and this is Marvin,” Conner introduced, then turned to Dick, “guys this is-“

Dick thought quickly, accepting Marvin’s handshake with a smile. He made a fast decision, trying not to glance at Mal to check his reaction, “Richard, my friends call me Dick.”

“unfortunate,” Marvin snickered. One of the others, Brent, elbowed him in the side.

The night went as one would expect. Tall tales were spun, drinks were had, nothing too extraordinary, and perhaps that was the point. Dick didn’t drink much, he didn’t want to get drunk. He drank enough to not draw attention to it, having perfected the skill of low-profile sobriety thanks to the many galas he’d been forced to attend.

At one point, however, conversation lulled between Dick and the others. Mal used the chance to lean over and ask him, “is that… your actual name or…?”

Dick nodded, smirking, “surprised?”

“just… not expecting it,” Mal blinked, “I thought the secret identity was a closely guarded secret for the bats.”

“it is,” Dick said, sipping his drink, “you’ve got a first name and appearance, there’s a bit more to go till you figure out who I am.”

“is that a challenge?” Mal asked.

Dick shrugged, “if you want.”

“Mal!” Marvin called him over, “dude, come beat me at pool!”

Mal snickered and joined them at the table. Conner stared in confusion at it all, slowly backing away from the table.

“how the hell does this game work?” he asked.

“they’re not playing right,” Dick assured, “the real rules make a bit more sense.”

Conner laughed and sat down with Dick.

“so…” he started, “filling in for the old man?”

Dick rubbed at his face, “yep.”

“how’s your neck?”

“what?”

“you’ve been rubbing at it all night,” Conner explained, “and rolling your shoulders.”

Dick sighed, “yeah, just took a few bad hits, nothing crazy.”

Conner nodded, sipped his drink, “doesn’t explain the elevated heart rate.”

“Conner I swear to god,” Dick huffed a laugh, “I deal with Babs enough, don’t start.”

Conner held his hands up in fake surrender, “I’m sorry, am I not allowed to be worried for one of my best friends?”

“no, leave me alone,” Dick snickered, “I’m fine, really.”

Conner sighed but let it go.

Wally was genuinely sorry for snapping at Dick. He was just stressed about Artemis going undercover, that was all. He knew Dick was just as stressed, he made that apology known as soon as they were back in the warehouse.

“it’s fine,” Dick assured.

“it’s not,” Wally sighed, “I’m just worried.”

“we’re both worried,” Dick said, he wasn’t standing still and looking at Wally, he was moving about the warehouse, closing doors and making sure everything was clear, “it’s fine, I understand.”

Wally swallowed, stuffing his hands in his pockets as he leant against a shelf and waited for Dick to finish.

“okay, we’re good, time to go.” Dick walked past him, straight down an aisle. Wally caught his arm. Dick blinked, confused.

Wally didn’t know why he did it, he just had to.

“are you okay?” he asked, frowning as he stared at his friend.

“fine,” Dick said, flashing his iconic smile, “feeling the aster.”

“I’m going to ask again, this time take more than a fraction of a second before you answer.” Wally crossed his arms, “are you okay?”

Dick laughed, confused, “I’m fine, why do you ask? Is there… something wrong with you?”

“no, don’t deflect,” Wally held out a finger, “when’d you last sleep? Drink some water?”

Dick snickered, “contrary to popular belief, I can look after myself, Wally, you don’t need to helicopter parent.”

“I just…” Wally swallowed, “I’m just worried, about you and Kaldur and Artemis. I’m not in the game anymore, I know, but still…” he sighed, shoulders slumping, “look, I just think sometimes about… when we were kids and-“

“people change, Walls,” Dick said, seeming to have made a conclusion as to what Wally was on about and thus deciding he no longer was willing to indulge in this conversation.

“trust me, I’m well aware,” Wally said, “but I just-“

“I’m _fine_ , Wally,” Dick reiterated, “head home.”

Dick dropped his head in his hands, elbows against the main desk of the Batcave, the computer screens showering blue light on him.

Two hands landed on his shoulders, someone was leaning against him. he’d recognised the gait of her walk as she strode over, Barbara. She leaned down and kissed the top of his head.

“it’s four in the morning,” she said.

“is it?” Dick asked, “hadn’t noticed.”

“I gathered.”

Dick groaned, somehow slumping further. Barbara moved her weight and walked around, pulling the chair from the desk.

“time for a break,” she said, sitting on the desk, right in the way so he couldn’t just move back and get to work.

“I’m not done,” he said, “I’ve still got-“

“it’ll be there later.”

“I-“

“nope,” Barbara said.

Dick just sighed, still in the Batman suit, the cowl down.

“Babs…” he rubbed at his face, “I’ve got to-“

“you don’t _have_ to do jack shit,” she said, grinning, “you’re doing this to yourself, boy wonder. And you’re no help to anyone in this state.”

“what state?” he asked, leaning back, the chair wobbled as his weight shifted on it and he spun slightly, balance off, the wheels moving awkwardly, “ignore that.”

“no,” she smiled, “time for bed.”

“it’s already four, what’s the point, I’m gonna be up again at six anyway.”

Barbara sighed, “it’s like the suit literally brings the behaviour with it.” she stood from the table, grabbed Dick by the front of the suit and pulled him up from the chair. Dick blinked, stumbling, Barbara held him up.

“come on,” she said, giving him a smile, “we can cuddle if you want.”

Dick sighed, smiling as he leaned forward and dropped his head against Barbara’s shoulder. She turned her head to kiss his neck.

“I can’t sleep, it’s a waste of time.”

“Dick, you’ve got still healing wounds, you haven’t had any real food for at least two days, you need a _break_.”

Dick sighed. Then stood straight.

“oh my god, that’s it.” his eyes were wide in realisation.

“what?”

“the Macintyre case we’ve been working, I just thought of something,” he rushed around, grabbing a few things, then turning to the batmobile.

Barbara blinked, staring as he walked away, “wait, _what_?”

“thanks!” he called back over his shoulder, then pulled the cowl back on.

“wait, Dick-”

He opened the batmobile door, hopping in and speeding away.

“and Master Tim, here’s your lunch for tomorrow.” Alfred handed the packed container to Tim as he left the kitchen, “and remember to eat it this time.”

Barbara finished her coffee, getting up from the bench, “okay, I’m off on patrol.”

“the sharpened Batarangs are in the usual place, I already packed your belt,” Alfred said, taking Barbara’s mug.

Dick swept in, placing his own mug from the morning next to the sink. It was now seven o’clock, he’d likely finished the coffee about five minutes after it was given to him and it had sat on the desk in the Batcave since then.

“ah, master Dick, I assume you’ll want a refill before tonight’s patrol?” Alfred asked.

“that would be appreciated,” Dick said with a smile.

“I thought as much.” Alfred seemed to have magic because a moment after he’d handed it to Dick.

“I’ll meet you down there,” Barbara said as she left. Dick nodded and began drinking the coffee.

“I saw that Nightwing closed a case in Bludhaven last night,” Alfred said.

Dick nodded, “yep.”

“and he has been in the mountain nigh on every night,” Alfred said, “and moonlighting as Batman.”

Dick laughed, “I guess you could call me busy.”

“that would be one way of saying it,” Alfred said, “another way would be: Dick Grayson is running himself into the ground.”

Dick laughed, the mere reminder of it all seemed to make all his limbs feel heavier.

“you know, I had this talk with Master Bruce rather often,” Alfred said, giving Dick a kind look, “I had many a conversation about the limits of his body and how far he was pushing them.”

“I’m aware, I overheard a lot of them,” Dick said, already halfway through his coffee. It wasn’t kicking in, in fact it tasted… slightly off.

“yes, but not all,” Alfred said, “especially not the particularly bad ones.”

Dick raised an eyebrow, “you’ll have to tell me those stories some time.” He finished his coffee quickly.

“I could,” Alfred said, taking the mug and looking at it with an investigative eye, “or you could wait a few moments and find out how they went.”

Dick frowned, taking a step that was off balance, he leaned against the counter, frowning, “what do you mean?”

Alfred smiled and held up the mug, “decaf,” he said, “plus benzodiazepine.”

Dick blinked, the name not quite registering in his head, “what?”

Alfred took out a phone, quickly sending a text to someone. In the meantime, Dick stumbled as he tried to support himself with a hand on the counter. Everything was beginning to spin.

“did you…” he held his head. Alfred stepped closer, he stared in confusion at the man, fighting the urge to flinch away as he held a hand on his forearm, ready to support him if he fell, “you…” he blinked, feeling sick, he tried to take a step back, he stumbled, Alfred caught him, “drugged me?”

“an extreme measure I didn’t expect to have to use so soon after you’re appointment as Batman,” Alfred explained.

Dick was sinking further towards the ground, Alfred wasn’t strong enough to support him entirely. Eventually Dick’s knees gave up entirely and he fell to the ground.

Dick had been drugged before, he wasn’t a fan of people touching him when he was inebriated.

“deep breaths, Master Dick,” Alfred warned as he held his head up, “I’ve got you. Time for a break, you need it.”

Everything was spinning, his head hurt more than ever, his vision blurred.

“I…” he stuttered, “why… would you…” his hand was holding onto Alfred’s shoulder, as if he was going to try and stand. No matter how hard he tried his legs wouldn’t move. His eyelids were heavy.

“what’s wrong, Alf?”

Barbara’s voice was distant. Dick barely heard it and it took a moment for it to register that it was, in fact, Barbara.

“Miss Barbara-“

“oh my god, what happened, should I call-“

“it’s quite alright miss Barbara.”

The words were drifting. Dick tried to keep his eyes open but they refused to cooperate.

“Babs…” Dick slurred, “he…”

“I may have incapacitated Master Dick for the night,” Alfred explained, “could you assist me in getting him to his room?”

“I… yeah,” Barbara stared, “yeah, okay.”

She came round to the other side to pull him up by the arm.

“I… wait…” his tongue felt heavy in his mouth. He tried to walk, to pull his arms from Barbara and Alfred, but his limbs refused to obey.

He was quite sure they barely managed to get him out of the kitchen before he slumped entirely in their grasp, unconscious.


End file.
